


The Weaver and The Hunter

by Nalyd



Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: Conflict, Fanfiction, Fantasy, Female Protagonist, Gen, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Planeswalker, Theros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 13:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7847224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyd/pseuds/Nalyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the plane of Theros, Lara, the daughter of King Kedarick of Iretis and his wife Klytessa of Meletis, is forced to reside for a period of time in Setessa with her friend and protector Kleio, after barely surviving an ambush that killed her mother. However, a series of mysterious deaths torment the inhabitants of the city, and Lara will inadvertently come face to face with her worst enemy, who seems to know a little too much about her past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weaver and The Hunter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Building Toward a Dream (Parts 1&2)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/223528) by Ken Troop. 



> “The Weaver and The Hunter” is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC.

“Alright, children, that’s enough for today! It’s time to go home.”  
Lara stood still, her wooden sword gripped in both hands, sweat trickling down her forehead. She let her gaze wander around the grassy clearing, panting: the other youths had stopped their practicing, too. Walking back to the training ground’s entrance, she managed a smile, despite her exhaustion. She was quite tired, yes, but she was beginning to adjust to her new Setessan lifestyle. As she set down her sword with the other equipment, a tall, muscular woman with olive skin and jet-black hair approached her: she wore simple clothing and had a sword strapped to her hilt.

“Lara, you’re getting better by the day, your movements are quite elegant,” she said, “and to think you’re a Meletian! Honestly, some of our little ones should take example from you… You could be the next Phaedra!”

“Thank you, Kleio,” Lara answered. “I’m doing everything I can to fit in.”

“I know Setessans may seem a little cold to you sometimes,” Kleio reassured her, “but it’s only because they’re a very close community. You’re still young: they’ll accept you, and you will become one of us.” The warrior reached out and ruffled Lara’s short, auburn hair. “Your mother would be proud of you.”

Sadness started to well up in the girl’s heart, but she fought it back. “Yeah,” she managed to say.

Kleio smiled sweetly: “Come, I’ll go with you back to the house, ok?”

The two walked together on one of the narrow roads that wound through the tall trees: as the sun gradually approached the horizon, everyone was busy heading back to their houses, to their families. Lara glanced at Kleio: the Setessan warrior who had always been at her mother’s side was the only family she had left. Lara’s mother, Klytessa, had died in a leonin ambush while they were traveling to Iretis: they had barely managed to escape. And her father… He'd been the king of Iretis, before the city was sacked by the leonin. She hadn’t seen him in a long time. He was probably dead, too.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Kleio exclaimed, shaking Lara from her thoughts, “Look what I brought for you!” The woman reached into her pouch and took out some figs.

Lara was overjoyed: “Oh, Kleio! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You’re the best!” she squealed, throwing herself to her friend and hugging her as hard as she could.

The warrior struggled to maintain her balance: “You’re welcome, dear, but you’re going to make me drop them.”

“Ah! Right, sorry.” Lara detached herself from Kleio and accepted the figs, which she promptly started devouring. “You know how much I love these,” she mumbled through a mouthful of fruit, “where did you get them?”

“A foreigner was selling them at the Abora Market, so I decided to buy them and make your day,” she replied with a smile.

They strolled toward the building that housed Lara and several other orphans, located in one of the centermost rings of Setessa. “So, how were things at Leina Tower, today?” the girl asked.

“Not too bad,” Kleio answered, “Anthousa isn’t there much, these days. It sounds like she’s busier figuring out some mysterious deaths that have been happening recently.” She shook her head. “Ah, but you shouldn’t worry about that: I’m sure she and Karametra will be able to take care of it. Speaking, did you go to the Temple today? I thought your house planned on going during the afternoon.”

“Yes, I did. I thought I might’ve been able to stop by during lunch and say hello,” Lara explained, “but I didn’t have enough time to do that and also visit the Spring Nexus to leave an offer for Nylea. I’m sorry.”

Kleio chuckled: “I still find it weird that you’re devoted to Nylea. People who grow up in a city like Meletis usually aren’t.”

Lara shrugged. She’d never been too fond of the city, but she’d always loved being outside, playing tag in the grove with other children, climbing on trees, exploring... She’d always been fascinated by every aspect of nature. When she had first met Kleio and the warrior had talked to her about Nylea, Lara immediately understood that she was the goddess she’d grow up to worship. Since she now lived in Setessa, paying respect to her (and her sister Karametra) had become quite easy.

As the two reached their destination, Lara saw that the other orphans were getting back, as well. It was getting late, after all. She said goodnight to Kleio and then hurried towards the two-story wooden building.

Two men were standing at the door: they were Halphaios and Silas, in charge of the house. Aside from Halphaios having darker skin, the two were similar: they were both tall, broad-shouldered men with short, dark hair and brown eyes. Silas was dressed as almost any Setessan male during the summer: bare chest and feet, wearing only a green tunic and some trinkets. Halphaios, however, wore red garbs, greaves and sandals. The man was, in fact, not from Setessa. When Silas had left his home as a youth to peregrinate, as was customary among Setessan males, he had journeyed to Akros. There he had met Halphaios, a proud yet kind Akroan warrior of the Oromai who had granted him hospitality.

The two had grown close and, when Silas had finally left Akros, Halphaios decided to go with him. They spent a long time traveling together, and in the end, once they’d had their full of traveling Theros, they decided to return to Silas’s old home. The two loved each other too much to separate, and they decided that Setessa was a better place for them to live than Akros.  
Lara heard the two men talking as she drew closer: “-and it looks like even Anthousa and Karametra are having a hard time understanding the cause of these deaths,” Silas was saying.

“I’m afraid this is getting out of control... I’d offer my assistance, but Iroas help me if they’d accept it,” Halphaios answered, shaking his head.

“There is little we could do, anyways… Oh, hello, Lara! How was training?” he asked, noticing the girl’s arrival.

Lara smiled at the two men: they’d been friendly to her from the start, when she was afraid she’d feel lonely while Kleio was at Leina Tower. All the orphans looked up to them.

“It was pretty fun, thank you for asking,” she answered politely.

“I talked to your instructor Aella earlier, she said your forms are getting to be pretty decent,” Halphaios told her, grinning. “Maybe we could practice together one of these days, hmm?”

Lara’s eyes lit up: “Of course,” she said with a wide smile.

“Alright, I think everyone’s back. It’s time to get ready for bed,” Silas interjected.

Lara nodded and stepped into the building, followed by the two men. She walked through the first room, where Silas and Halphaios slept, past the hallway that lead to the kitchen, and went upstairs. As she did every night, she practiced playing the lute--the only tangible memory she had of her mother--, chatted a bit with the other children, and then went to bed. She drifted off to sleep in a matter of minutes.  
///

Lara awoke with a dry throat. The room was dark: it must’ve been the middle of the night. She let her eyes adjust to the light (or lack thereof) and looked around: Amaltheia and Theophila, the two girls she shared the room with, were sound asleep. She decided to get a drink of water from the kitchen, so she got up and tip-toed out of the room. Silas and Halphaios were light sleepers: she hoped she wouldn’t disturb them, since the entrance to the kitchen was right next to their room.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and kept walking. She watched her step: she didn’t want to trip over something and wake everyone up. As she reached the hallway, she glanced towards the men’s room and stopped dead in her tracks, eyes wide open: someone was standing between the two beds.

There was enough light coming through the windows for Lara to see the mysterious person, although she wasn’t sure whether they were male or female. They wore garbs and jewelry that reminded her of clothes she’d seen in Meletis, except these were black and purple. Their nails were more like claws, dark, long and sharp-looking. But it was their head that surprised her the most: it looked normal from the ears down, but above that... They had no eyes, nose, or hair: just two black horns, with smoke emanating from where the lower half of their face ended and swirling around them. Not only that, but they seemed to be hovering.

Lara saw them lean towards Halphaios, hands outstretched: she didn’t know what intentions they had, but something told her that they weren’t exactly benevolent. She thought about running upstairs and waking the others for help, but that might’ve taken too long. She hoped the two men would wake up if necessary.

“Get away from him,” she told them in what she hoped was an intimidating tone of voice, stepping forward. The intruder straightened up and turned to face her.

“Hello, little one,” they said calmly, “what’s your name?” Their voice sounded otherworldly to Lara: it felt as if they spoke with an echo.

“Who are you?” she asked, glaring at their mouth, since they had no eyes.

“My dear child, I asked you first.” 

“You’re in our house,” she answered, crossing her arms. 

The figure’s mouth stretched into a delighted grin: “You do make a valid point. Well, in that case,” they said, dipping their head, “allow me to introduce myself: you may call me Ashiok.” 

“I’m Lara”, she said after a brief hesitation. 

“Lara…” they said dreamily, “well, this is quite the coincidence.” 

She frowned: “What do you mean?’ 

“Oh, it’s a long story,” Ashiok said, waving their hand, “and I don’t have the patience nor the time to tell it.” 

“Are you going to kill me?” Lara asked flatly. 

Ashiok chuckled: “I have killed many Setessans, among others, but I have little interest in children: none of you orphans are old enough to have any significant amount of devotion.”

Before she could ask what exactly that meant, they turned towards Halphaios: “But this man has devoted his entire life to Iroas. He would take his life, if his god asked for it. Perhaps even worse…” they mused.

“I don’t know what you plan to do,” Lara interrupted their thoughts, “but if you think I’m just going to stand here and watch, you’re wrong.” She glanced at the two warriors: How could they still be asleep?

“Of course not. However, not only have I placed a spell on these two that will stop them from waking up,” Ashiok explained with a smirk, “I’ve also ensured that no sound escapes this room.” They shrugged. “So much for calling for help, right?”

Lara clenched her teeth. The only options now left to her were to fight Ashiok or try to go get help. Perhaps, if she was quick enough, she would be able to grab one of the swords resting next to the beds. Before she could make up her mind, the mage lifted their hand towards her: suddenly black mist appeared all around her, binding her in place. She tried to break free, but the smoky tendrils wouldn’t budge.

“Now, if you’ll pardon me, I have some work to do.” Ashiok excused themselves, turning once again to face the sleeping Akroan. Lara watched them touch the warrior’s head with their fingers: after a few seconds, Halphaios grunted as smoke started coming out from his mouth and nostrils. As it coalesced into a sphere she noticed that, unlike the mist that surrounded her, which was pitch black, the smoke wasn’t fully black: it had a certain glimmer to it. She realized she’d already seen something similar. Both the Starfields of Nyx and the Kelema Veil in Setessa, plus the few eidolons she’d seen during her life in Meletis, had the same starry shimmer.

Taking a closer look at Ashiok, she realized that the mist that surrounded them also seemed to be infused with Nyx. Did that mean they were Nyxborn? Then again, if they were, why would they be openly defying the gods by attacking their worshippers? Plus, their actual body had no trace whatsoever of the infusion. No, there must’ve been another explanation. But Lara didn’t exactly have the time to look for it.

Desperate, she prayed to Nylea: “Please help me, I need to protect my friends,” she thought with all the intensity she could muster. Ashiok took their hands off of the warrior’s face, and the shimmering orb hovered closer to them.  
“Excellent,” they whispered to themselves. The mage lifted their hand and brushed the twinkling sphere. The smoke that circled around them enveloped it, absorbing it little by little.

Lara gasped: suddenly, she understood what was happening. When mortals slept, they visited Nyx… And, somehow, the mage was using them as a conduit. Ashiok, she realized, was assimilating the essence itself of Nyx. They must’ve been seeking out mortals particularly devoted to gods because the link was stronger, or somehow more suitable to their manipulations.

Ashiok’s motives were still unknown to Lara, but it was clear to her that they had to be stopped: “Nylea, please!” she thought desperately, invoking the goddess once again.  
Except, this time, there was an answer.

She felt power rushing through her, making her stronger, faster, more aware. She pushed against her smoky fetters, shattering them. Ashiok pivoted towards her, but Lara leapt forward and punched them as hard as she could before they had the chance to react. The impact sent the mage flying and smashing their back against the wall before they collapsed to the floor.

Lara hurried to Halphaios and tried to shake him awake, but to no avail. It looked like Ashiok’s spell was still in effect. She grabbed the sword next to Silas’s bed and then turned to face her enemy, but was startled to see them standing right in front of her, their claws pointed at her neck. The scarce moonlight coming in from the window made them look even eerier.

Lara stood still, panting. She could still feel the effects of Nylea’s boon. She could still win.

Ashiok grinned: “It seems I might’ve underestimated you, Lara,” they said, calling her by name for the first time. “Although I suspect that strength isn’t all yours, hmm?”  
“Nylea has lent me her strength so that I could stop you, monster!” she yelled, batting Ashiok’s arm aside with her free hand. She slashed at him with tremendous speed and strength, but the mage’s form dissipated as the blade ran through it.

Her eyes widened: “How…?” she breathed.

“Nylea herself, you say? How intriguing,” she heard behind her.

Lara crouched and spun, delivering a roundhouse kick towards the source of the voice. Again, Ashiok’s shape dissolved into smoky tendrils.

“I’m surprised that someone as young as yourself has received a blessing from the goddess of the hunt,” the voice continued, coming from every direction. “Perhaps you deserve a little… reward,” it acknowledged.

Lara frantically searched the dark room with her eyes, but, even with her senses enhanced, couldn’t find any trace of her opponent.

“Stop playing games and show yourself,” she muttered. She heard Halphaios grunt and looked at him.

The soldier rubbed his head: “What is going on?” he yawned, his eyes still closed.

Lara drew a sharp breath: was this the ‘reward’ Ashiok mentioned? They were just going to leave them be, at least for the moment? Maybe they were trying to hide that she had actually injured them, and they were forced to retreat. She hurried over to her friend.

“Halphaios, are you all right?” she asked, tentative.

“I’m doing great,” he said, rubbing his eyes, “it’s you I have my doubts on”.

“Wh- what?” she whispered.  
The warrior looked at her, finally opening his eyes: they were completely black. “Surprise,” he said in Ashiok’s voice.

Lara gasped, but Halphaios struck her with his fist, knocking her backwards. She dropped the sword and yelped as she hit the hard floor. She felt something prickle her forehead, and she looked up to see Ashiok kneeling over her, grinning, their nails resting upon her head.  
Suddenly she felt freezing cold, as if ice were running through her veins. Unable to move, her vision started to fade.

“I give you the most precious gift of all,” she heard Ashiok whisper as Halphaios stood up and mumbled something about the will of Iroas, “I give you the truth.” Their smirk was the last thing she saw before falling unconscious.  
///

Lara found herself standing in a vast but mostly empty room. She looked around: judging from the light coming in from the large, ornate windows, it must’ve been sometime after dawn. There were a few intricate columns to both sides of the marble room, and a carpet led from the entrance to a dais. On the dais was a throne, and on the throne…

Lara inhaled sharply: there was a man sitting on the throne, and he appeared to be writing a letter. But this was no ordinary man. Even though a long time had gone by since the last time they’d been together, she had no doubts on his identity.  
“…Dad?” she murmured, stepping closer. He had aged since they last met: his once jet black hair had some grey strands in it, and now some wrinkles crossed his face. But this was her father, she was sure of it.

He didn’t seem to hear her. Lara shuffled closer, until she stood right next to him. Still no reaction. Her hand cautiously reached for his shoulder: she hastily withdrew it when it went straight through him. Her father’s tired expression didn’t change. Lara looked around: was this some sort of illusion? Yet everything seemed so real: the walls, the fireplace, her dad, the letters…  
What is he writing? she thought. Hunching over, she started to read. Her eyes widened when she saw the letter was addressed to her. Her father was telling her how much he loved her and cherished all his memories of his daughter. Lara found herself fighting back tears: “I love you too, dad,” she choked, looking at him.

He then moved on to another letter: this one was for Lara’s mother. In the few minutes it took him to write, Lara learned that there were thousands of leonin camped outside the walls of the city, that Akros, Setessa and Meletis had refused to help, and that her father intended to give himself to the leonin in order to spare his city, Iretis. The king’s source of strength, he wrote, were, as always, his wife and daughter. Only knowing that they were safe gave him the determination to sacrifice himself, in hopes of allowing his kingdom to be reborn. His true legacy, he continued, were Lara and Klytessa.

Lara looked at King Kedarick of Iretis in a new light: now she understood. Her father was going to sacrifice himself for his people. A tear streaked down her face. So he had indeed died, albeit a noble death. She was glad he hadn’t found out about her mother’s death. Lara sniffled and wiped her cheek. She would do everything she could to make her parents proud of her.

Father and daughter were both surprised by an unexpected knock at the door. Kedarick scribbled a few more words on the letter, signed it, and set it aside with the other.

He cleared his throat: “Come in,” he said shakily.  
The door creaked open and a small, bald man peered in. He looked concerned.

Kedarick’s brow furrowed: “What news do you bring me, Udaen?’ he asked.

His advisor stepped in the room, slowly. “Your Majesty…” he began, looking at the floor. Lara could feel the tension in the air. She didn’t know what had happened, but the man had clearly some important news to communicate. Her father clenched the throne’s armrest.  
“Just tell me, Udaen. Please.” he begged through gritted teeth.

“Your Majesty, your wife and child, they… they’ve been killed in a leonin ambush,” he uttered.

Lara’s face went pale. What happened next would come back to haunt her many, many times. Before she could say anything, she heard her father scream. It was a horrible sound, the sound of complete despair without any hope left. She watched aghast as her father, still screaming, reached for his dagger.

“NO!” she yelled, trying to grab his arm. But to no avail: she passed right through him, and had to watch as he stabbed both his eyes out before slumping in his throne.  
“Dad! Dad!!” she howled, tears streaming down her face. Her father’s eyeless face stared back at her, his last scream of anguish still etched on his features.

Lara fell to the ground, feeling sick. She sobbed uncontrollably, her entire body shaking from what she had just witnessed.  
Somehow, she found the strength to lift her head and look at Udaen through her tears, in a silent cry for help. But, as she laid her eyes on the advisor, his form shimmered and changed into a more familiar one: Ashiok.

When Lara saw the architect of her parents’ death, she stopped crying. She remained motionless for a few seconds, wheezing, as her brain put the pieces together, while Ashiok advanced towards the dais.

Lara felt strange. For a moment, she felt as though she had been emptied of everything. But then, one precise emotion came back to her: Anger, stronger than she’d ever experienced it. Every fiber of her being wanted to erase Ashiok, to put a stop to the suffering they caused. She stood up slowly, as they floated up to the throne. When they were close enough, she threw a punch, yelling. But her fist went right through them.  
She let her arms fall to her sides. If they were part of this illusion too, there was nothing she could do to them. For the time being. She glared at them silently as they bent down to read the letters. Then they picked them up.

“What are you doing? Put them back!” Lara yelled as they started to hover towards… the fireplace. She clenched her teeth and ran after them. Ashiok reached the fireplace and lifted their arm.

“Damn you, you monster! Why do you have to do this? What difference does it make to you? Haven’t you done enough already?!” the girl shrieked at the top of her lungs, already envisioning the mage’s claws opening and the letters being reduced to dust.

But Ashiok didn’t move. Surprised, Lara lowered her voice, fighting back more tears: “Please don’t burn them,” she whimpered. Ashiok turned around and went right through her, returning to the dais. Speechless, she followed, and saw them place the letters back on the desk, undamaged. She looked at her enemy, who smiled, baring their teeth.

“One day I will wipe that smug look off your face, you piece of-” before she could finish, a voice rumbled in the room, startling her. They both turned to face the speaker, who had demanded to know about the death of Lara and Klytessa. The girl found herself standing before an enormous human figure in dark robes, with a golden mask and infused with Nyx. When Ashiok told the newcomer about their lie, she understood who was facing her: Phenax, God of deceptions and lies. As the two beings talked, the entirety of what had happened revealed itself to her. Phenax had asked Ashiok to destroy the population of Iretis to grant him another city for the Returned, since he couldn’t interfere directly. In exchange, Ashiok was granted a request.

Lara felt her blood boil: her parents, along with an entire city, had died just so this terrible being could advance his plans, and Ashiok could have their stupid request. It was infuriating. She glared at them both as they kept talking, unaware of her presence: she didn’t care if one was capable of stealing the essence of Nyx and the other was nothing less than a god. She was going to make them both pay.  
As the conversation reached an end, Ashiok told Phenax to peer into their being to understand their mysterious request, which Lara hadn’t heard because it had been whispered. For a moment, he stood still, then he erupted into a booming, hideous laughter, that echoed throughout the entire city. When he vanished, Lara and Ashiok were left alone. She looked at them, motionless, forcing herself not to glance back at her father’s body. Then, Ashiok pushed the letters away from them… and towards her.

She eyed them, uncertain: what were they doing now? A few moments of complete silence went by, save for the distant noise of the leonin sacking the city.

Then they smirked: “You can keep those if you want, you know.” Lara’s mouth swung open. Had Ashiok just talked to her?

“But you better grab them quickly: you’re about to wake up”, they said, turning towards her. Before Lara could think of a reply, Ashiok vanished. There were no shimmers of light: one moment they were there, the next there were gone. Just like the columns, Lara realized. And the fireplace. And the door. The entire room was vanishing in front of her.

Without losing any further time, she reached for the letters, finding that she could indeed grab them, as opposed to everything else. She stood still, clenching the letters against her chest. As everything started to fade, she looked back at her father one more time.

“I hope you and mom will be together now,” she whispered, “I promise I will do everything I can to be a good daughter.” As everything turned to black, she mumbled one more promise: “I’ll get them back, dad. Just you wait.” Then she fell unconscious.  
///

Lara awoke to a loud knocking on the door. She shielded her eyes from the harsh light of day. She was lying on her back on something wet. She opened her eyes and looked around, only to discover that the floor was covered with blood. Silas, who was lying on his bed, had the hilt of a dagger protruding from his chest. Halphaios was slumped on the floor, his own sword running through him. Lara’s stomach churned: Ashiok must’ve made the Akroan do the deed himself. She hoped the two warriors were reunited in the Underworld. A key turned, and the door swung open.

“Why aren’t you answering the-” Kleio was saying. She stopped abruptly. It took her less than a second to take in the scene. The Setessan shrieked at the top of her lungs, and Lara saw other people with horrified expressions behind her. The moment Kleio saw the girl move, she rushed in, avoiding the bodies, lifted her and took her outside.

“Notify Anthousa,” she yelled as she carried her out. “There’s been another murder! And someone take care of the children!”

Lara groaned as she looked back at the house, still dazed. Kleio looked down at her, worried: “Are you ok? How do you feel?” she asked, “Please tell me you’re not hurt!”

The girl waved a hand, dismissively: “I’m fine, you can put me d-” she stopped as she noticed she’d been holding something the entire time. She gasped: the letters. She opened them and read them. They were the exact letters she’d seen her father write. She managed a faint smile, then she gently closed them. Kleio kept looking at her, puzzled.

“Put me down, Kleio,” she said. Her friend complied. After glancing at the ground for a few seconds, Lara looked back at the warrior.  
“I need to talk to Anthousa,” she whispered.

“What?” 

“I need to talk to Anthousa,” she repeated. “I know who did this”, she announced, crossing her arms, “and I want to help stop them.”

Kleio’s expression turned to surprise. “Very well,” she answered after a few seconds, “let’s go ask to be received.”

They marched briskly towards Leina Tower. As they walked past a tree surrounded by butterflies, Lara’s thoughts went to her goddess.  
“Great Nylea,” she thought, “I will hunt down the murderers of my family, and will make them pay for everything they’ve done. This I swear to you. Will you help me?” In response, the cloud of butterflies burst forward from the tree and surrounded her, circling around her for a brief moment. Then the butterflies dispersed.

Kleio looked at her in wonder as Lara grinned, satisfied: yes, one day she would make her parents proud, and nobody would ever have to fear Ashiok and Phenax again. The Mage would soon regret leaving her alive to toy with her. She sped up with a determined expression, ready to meet Anthousa. 

Kleio followed, in awe of the girl’s transformation. She knew it was absurd, but somehow she wondered if, for the first time, the Goddess of the Hunt had just picked a Champion.


End file.
